Letter of Introduction (posted January 20) Hi, Eryn!
Wow. You never know how hard a letter of introduction is until you try it, huh? I imagine that is what it’s going to be like with all of the papers we write this semester – but what a great opportunity for students to see their teachers making their way through it, too :) I’m excited about working with AP Lang students again this year – if you couldn’t tell – practically giddy about it. I’m guessing I sounded like a complete dork in class yesterday because of it, but I find sacrificing a little dignity every once in a while can be endearing (at least that’s what I’m hoping :)).
Oh! Definitely one thing you should know about me: I use emoticons frequently in informal writing. And here’s why: people usually think I’m much more serious than I am. There’s something about the way I furrow my eyebrows when I’m thinking; it makes me look grumpy. I am, most of the time anyway, not grumpy, but trying to synthesize two thoughts or doing some meta-cognitive analysis on the impact of the speaker’s rhetoric on the audience (me). SO. If you see me doing this in class – not grumpy. Just thinking. Promise. :)
Another thing you should know about me is I am usually pulled in lots of directions. For example, I am also a mother of two amazing children (who have way too many extra-curricular activities :)); continue my work as a literacy coach at Roosevelt, Merrill, and Callanan; facilitate middle school and adult religious education classes at my church; continue my education through a writing course at Drake University; work to attend and (hopefully) present at national educational conferences; hope to be published this year in a journal (fingers crossed), and read as much as I can in my quieter moments. Each of these things I love desperately, so I have a hard time cutting them from my life, which means they stay, and I get pulled in different directions. :)
I do have some serious hopes for myself as a writer this semester. While I’ve written samples of writing for students before (to give students a chance at analyzing my writing), I’ve never gone through the entire writing process before with a class. I’m feeling pretty nervous about putting myself out there like that … but that just shows me how brave our students are: they’re doing the same thing, and they haven’t even met their writing partners yet. I’m looking forward to it though and feeling pretty grateful to have you as a writing partner.
Well, that should do it for now! Looking forward to getting your letter.
And, thank-you, Eryn.
Sincerely,
Petra
Petra-
I honestly cannot remember the last time I needed to introduce myself to someone in a written format. Really, it has to have been years. While I certainly enjoy the writing process, I thought my Master’s thesis might be the last extended piece of writing for a while. It will be a fun challenge to keep up though! I certainly think it will make me a better teacher of AP Lang.
So what is it most important for you to know about me? Besides reading practically anything with print on it, I love playing with my children, reading to them (of course), playing loads of volleyball, the occasional video game, and being in the great outdoors. I look forward to this summer so I can play sand volleyball and go camping again!
My family and children keep me very busy and my first year of teaching has been an exciting challenge and change, since I used to work in the insurance industry. Well, actually, I’ve done all kinds of different jobs. I’ve been a cook and a waiter and the desk clerk at a hotel. I was a greens keeper at a golf course and a collections clerk for a medical supplies company. Man, I just realized how many jobs I’ve had in my life! They weren’t all great, but there were certainly parts I liked about all of them.
I hope that the writing we do this semester makes me a better writer; I have been writing for a long time and I know there are still so many areas I could improve. I hope all of our students gain the same understanding, that being an effective writer and communicator is about work and practice. And it can be really make you proud of yourself to read something you’ve crafted. You know that feeling when the 3rd (or 4th or 5th) draft of something is ready to be turned in and you feel like you could still do better, but it’s so far from where you started and it sounds right? It feels good to know you worked hard and to be proud of the flow of the writing and the evidence you found.
I hope that told you a little about me. Thanks for the opportunity to collaborate on this project. I think it’s going to be a blast!
Don’t Panic!
Eryn
(Nice allusion, Johnson)
Personal Reflection on Topic of Inquiry(posted RHS January 27 -- 171 January 29)
(please know that I'm typing a rough draft in my in between times today and that I will revise this later -- BUT I want to get something up asap for you :
I still can't feel the tip of my right thumb, where flesh meets pencil. I'm assuming its nerve damage that (hopefully) will right itself eventually. It took hours -- uncountable hours -- of notation and writing to get to this point of bodily injury. More than a week of eight-hour days started by squeezing myself into a desk built for a middle-school student, knees knocking the desk top, elbows jutting at awkward angles in order to take my notes on the pencil-scratched, faux-wood surface. Then a conveyer belt of students passed in front of me, each pausing long enough to read a multi-paragraph essay and answer a number of questions regarding what they had just spit-out. Each word that dropped from their lips landed on my paper as either a check-mark (congratulations – pronounced correctly) or a slash (a stutter, slip-up, repeat, mispronunciation, pause – any number of indicators that designated an unfamiliar word). Every word in every paragraph had a mark for every student in at a particular grade level in two middle schools – this was my assigned task: gather data on reading comprehension and fluency.
It would have been deadening work, the repetitive kind that slowly grinds away any individual thought into the grey dust of compliant consistency … it would have been, except for the kids. It was the sixth graders that did it for me: the trepidation that characterized their walk up to my desk, the vulnerability that exuded from their posture as they sat down and took the paper from in front of them, the quick intake of breath before they started reading. And the sparkle in their eyes. Even though they were in a situation where they knew they were being assessed by some oversized stranger, they wanted to do well (effort and pride are unmistakable on the faces of any student), they wanted to share something of themselves and their story with me (I was consistently amazed at how much I learned from children even when sitting down with them for only fifteen minutes), they were in school and seemed happy (they still, months later, greet me merrily in the halls).
I had just left the classroom, ten years of teaching, because of an extraordinary case of burn-out. And here in the first few weeks of a new job, doing the menial task of recording hundreds of reading inventories, I realized why I love teaching. It was a component that I must have continually overlooked. A love of learning is my very un-altruistic reason for teaching, but the bit that seemed to escape from my increasingly narrowing perspective is the joy of it. It’s so often that education seems removed from joy or happiness, and what could be more counter-intuitive? Any time spent with children exploring, teens mastering a new video game, or adults indulging in challenging hobbies gives ample evidence of the pleasure of learning. What is it in our educational institutions that make learning devoid of joy? What separates education and happiness? And is it possible to reunite the two?
Mr. Johnson writes: [This is how I started my thinking;] As personal reflection, at least in an extended format, can be a real challenge for me, I anticipate that this particular piece may be one of the most difficult of the semester. I began thinking about topic ideas more than a week ago, but I just have not been able to focus enough to narrow things down, so I think that is what will have to happen as I write. I feel I would like to explore some element of a concept that in my brain I continue to label naturalism, even though I know the word means something other than where I will end up. I think that perhaps my “story” will explain it best.
[This is where my exposition/essay begins:] I grew up on a small acreage in northeast Iowa. Until I moved out of my parents’ home to go to college, I spent spring, summer, fall and winter chopping wood for our furnace, as that was our source of heat and no wood equals a cold winter morning. My family always had a large garden and any number of fruit trees, strawberry patches, raspberry vines and the like, which I helped to plant, weed and harvest. I hated it with a passion. Ok, I liked fresh raspberries and vegetables, but we lived miles outside of town and I was always mowing or working on something when my friends called to say they were headed to the movies. When I left for college, I swore I was done. I was headed for a college degree, a lucrative career doing something both interesting and exciting, and I would not subject myself to that kind of torture any longer.
Years later, here I am in living in the heart of Des Moines. It is not exactly Metropolis or Gotham, but neither is it the small and utterly boring home town I remember from my teen years. There’s almost always something to do, literally dozens of movies available, for example, when all I had previously was a choice of two. Or the bowling alley. I used to live in apartments, mainly because I did not have to worry about mowing the lawn or shoveling snow, but I grew tired of noisy neighbors and realized I wanted a yard. So I bought a house. Still, something was missing. I began to grow a small garden each summer; I have for several years now. I love the smell of the earth when I till it each spring and taste of fresh tomatoes and peppers I pick. I missed the pets we had when I was child, so I got a dog. I missed the taste of farm-raised chicken, so I started visiting the local farmer’s markets.
There were other things too. I started recycling. I mean really paying attention to what items went in the recycle bin. Trying to use my own water bottles (or at least reuse the disposable ones I bought as long as possible). I started paying attention to the kinds of plants that grew in my neighbors’ yards and began planting in my own yard, often for nothing more than ornamentation. I began taking my children on hikes through Waterworks Park and Jester Park. We went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house where I would take them through the woods and identify the calls of birds and the tracks of various wild animals.
Recently, I began to realize I was trying to find something that was missing from my life, some connection with nature, or a lost element, the natural world. I don’t believe we humans are meant to live in giant, prefab concrete buildings surrounded by plastic bric-a-brac. I think we’re losing our connection to the world and to one another; connecting only through the internet and experiencing nature only through cable television. I realized I wanted to return to my roots, to the naturalist (connected to nature) lifestyle my parents have been enjoying for as long as I can remember; even if they do have a gas furnace now.
I intend to further examine the topic of humanity’s (lost?) connection to nature. I thought of it initially as naturalism, but I think the more accurate term may be ENVIRONMENTALISM. How does our environment affect us and do we affect it?
Rough Draft Definition (posted RHS February 3 -- 171 February 5)
Hi, Eryn!
Wow. You never know how hard a letter of introduction is until you try it, huh? I imagine that is what it’s going to be like with all of the papers we write this semester – but what a great opportunity for students to see their teachers making their way through it, too :)
I’m excited about working with AP Lang students again this year – if you couldn’t tell – practically giddy about it. I’m guessing I sounded like a complete dork in class yesterday because of it, but I find sacrificing a little dignity every once in a while can be endearing (at least that’s what I’m hoping :)).
Oh! Definitely one thing you should know about me: I use emoticons frequently in informal writing. And here’s why: people usually think I’m much more serious than I am. There’s something about the way I furrow my eyebrows when I’m thinking; it makes me look grumpy. I am, most of the time anyway, not grumpy, but trying to synthesize two thoughts or doing some meta-cognitive analysis on the impact of the speaker’s rhetoric on the audience (me). SO. If you see me doing this in class – not grumpy. Just thinking. Promise. :)
Another thing you should know about me is I am usually pulled in lots of directions. For example, I am also a mother of two amazing children (who have way too many extra-curricular activities :)); continue my work as a literacy coach at Roosevelt, Merrill, and Callanan; facilitate middle school and adult religious education classes at my church; continue my education through a writing course at Drake University; work to attend and (hopefully) present at national educational conferences; hope to be published this year in a journal (fingers crossed), and read as much as I can in my quieter moments. Each of these things I love desperately, so I have a hard time cutting them from my life, which means they stay, and I get pulled in different directions. :)
I do have some serious hopes for myself as a writer this semester. While I’ve written samples of writing for students before (to give students a chance at analyzing my writing), I’ve never gone through the entire writing process before with a class. I’m feeling pretty nervous about putting myself out there like that … but that just shows me how brave our students are: they’re doing the same thing, and they haven’t even met their writing partners yet. I’m looking forward to it though and feeling pretty grateful to have you as a writing partner.
Well, that should do it for now! Looking forward to getting your letter.
And, thank-you, Eryn.
Sincerely,
Petra
Petra-
I honestly cannot remember the last time I needed to introduce myself to someone in a written format. Really, it has to have been years. While I certainly enjoy the writing process, I thought my Master’s thesis might be the last extended piece of writing for a while. It will be a fun challenge to keep up though! I certainly think it will make me a better teacher of AP Lang.
So what is it most important for you to know about me? Besides reading practically anything with print on it, I love playing with my children, reading to them (of course), playing loads of volleyball, the occasional video game, and being in the great outdoors. I look forward to this summer so I can play sand volleyball and go camping again!
My family and children keep me very busy and my first year of teaching has been an exciting challenge and change, since I used to work in the insurance industry. Well, actually, I’ve done all kinds of different jobs. I’ve been a cook and a waiter and the desk clerk at a hotel. I was a greens keeper at a golf course and a collections clerk for a medical supplies company. Man, I just realized how many jobs I’ve had in my life! They weren’t all great, but there were certainly parts I liked about all of them.
I hope that the writing we do this semester makes me a better writer; I have been writing for a long time and I know there are still so many areas I could improve. I hope all of our students gain the same understanding, that being an effective writer and communicator is about work and practice. And it can be really make you proud of yourself to read something you’ve crafted. You know that feeling when the 3rd (or 4th or 5th) draft of something is ready to be turned in and you feel like you could still do better, but it’s so far from where you started and it sounds right? It feels good to know you worked hard and to be proud of the flow of the writing and the evidence you found.
I hope that told you a little about me. Thanks for the opportunity to collaborate on this project. I think it’s going to be a blast!
Don’t Panic!
Eryn
(Nice allusion, Johnson)
Personal Reflection on Topic of Inquiry(posted RHS January 27 -- 171 January 29)
(please know that I'm typing a rough draft in my in between times today and that I will revise this later -- BUT I want to get something up asap for you :
I still can't feel the tip of my right thumb, where flesh meets pencil. I'm assuming its nerve damage that (hopefully) will right itself eventually. It took hours -- uncountable hours -- of notation and writing to get to this point of bodily injury. More than a week of eight-hour days started by squeezing myself into a desk built for a middle-school student, knees knocking the desk top, elbows jutting at awkward angles in order to take my notes on the pencil-scratched, faux-wood surface. Then a conveyer belt of students passed in front of me, each pausing long enough to read a multi-paragraph essay and answer a number of questions regarding what they had just spit-out. Each word that dropped from their lips landed on my paper as either a check-mark (congratulations – pronounced correctly) or a slash (a stutter, slip-up, repeat, mispronunciation, pause – any number of indicators that designated an unfamiliar word). Every word in every paragraph had a mark for every student in at a particular grade level in two middle schools – this was my assigned task: gather data on reading comprehension and fluency.
It would have been deadening work, the repetitive kind that slowly grinds away any individual thought into the grey dust of compliant consistency … it would have been, except for the kids. It was the sixth graders that did it for me: the trepidation that characterized their walk up to my desk, the vulnerability that exuded from their posture as they sat down and took the paper from in front of them, the quick intake of breath before they started reading. And the sparkle in their eyes. Even though they were in a situation where they knew they were being assessed by some oversized stranger, they wanted to do well (effort and pride are unmistakable on the faces of any student), they wanted to share something of themselves and their story with me (I was consistently amazed at how much I learned from children even when sitting down with them for only fifteen minutes), they were in school and seemed happy (they still, months later, greet me merrily in the halls).
I had just left the classroom, ten years of teaching, because of an extraordinary case of burn-out. And here in the first few weeks of a new job, doing the menial task of recording hundreds of reading inventories, I realized why I love teaching. It was a component that I must have continually overlooked. A love of learning is my very un-altruistic reason for teaching, but the bit that seemed to escape from my increasingly narrowing perspective is the joy of it. It’s so often that education seems removed from joy or happiness, and what could be more counter-intuitive? Any time spent with children exploring, teens mastering a new video game, or adults indulging in challenging hobbies gives ample evidence of the pleasure of learning.
What is it in our educational institutions that make learning devoid of joy? What separates education and happiness? And is it possible to reunite the two?
Mr. Johnson writes:
[This is how I started my thinking;] As personal reflection, at least in an extended format, can be a real challenge for me, I anticipate that this particular piece may be one of the most difficult of the semester. I began thinking about topic ideas more than a week ago, but I just have not been able to focus enough to narrow things down, so I think that is what will have to happen as I write. I feel I would like to explore some element of a concept that in my brain I continue to label naturalism, even though I know the word means something other than where I will end up. I think that perhaps my “story” will explain it best.
[This is where my exposition/essay begins:] I grew up on a small acreage in northeast Iowa. Until I moved out of my parents’ home to go to college, I spent spring, summer, fall and winter chopping wood for our furnace, as that was our source of heat and no wood equals a cold winter morning. My family always had a large garden and any number of fruit trees, strawberry patches, raspberry vines and the like, which I helped to plant, weed and harvest. I hated it with a passion. Ok, I liked fresh raspberries and vegetables, but we lived miles outside of town and I was always mowing or working on something when my friends called to say they were headed to the movies. When I left for college, I swore I was done. I was headed for a college degree, a lucrative career doing something both interesting and exciting, and I would not subject myself to that kind of torture any longer.
Years later, here I am in living in the heart of Des Moines. It is not exactly Metropolis or Gotham, but neither is it the small and utterly boring home town I remember from my teen years. There’s almost always something to do, literally dozens of movies available, for example, when all I had previously was a choice of two. Or the bowling alley. I used to live in apartments, mainly because I did not have to worry about mowing the lawn or shoveling snow, but I grew tired of noisy neighbors and realized I wanted a yard. So I bought a house.
Still, something was missing. I began to grow a small garden each summer; I have for several years now. I love the smell of the earth when I till it each spring and taste of fresh tomatoes and peppers I pick. I missed the pets we had when I was child, so I got a dog. I missed the taste of farm-raised chicken, so I started visiting the local farmer’s markets.
There were other things too. I started recycling. I mean really paying attention to what items went in the recycle bin. Trying to use my own water bottles (or at least reuse the disposable ones I bought as long as possible). I started paying attention to the kinds of plants that grew in my neighbors’ yards and began planting in my own yard, often for nothing more than ornamentation. I began taking my children on hikes through Waterworks Park and Jester Park. We went to Grandma and Grandpa’s house where I would take them through the woods and identify the calls of birds and the tracks of various wild animals.
Recently, I began to realize I was trying to find something that was missing from my life, some connection with nature, or a lost element, the natural world. I don’t believe we humans are meant to live in giant, prefab concrete buildings surrounded by plastic bric-a-brac. I think we’re losing our connection to the world and to one another; connecting only through the internet and experiencing nature only through cable television. I realized I wanted to return to my roots, to the naturalist (connected to nature) lifestyle my parents have been enjoying for as long as I can remember; even if they do have a gas furnace now.
I intend to further examine the topic of humanity’s (lost?) connection to nature. I thought of it initially as naturalism, but I think the more accurate term may be ENVIRONMENTALISM. How does our environment affect us and do we affect it?
Rough Draft Definition (posted RHS February 3 -- 171 February 5)
Starting with my 5 sources:
"A Definition of Happiness" http://grammar.about.com/od/shortpassagesforanalysis/a/Kazantzakis.htm
Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs http://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html
Happiness Project: http://www.happiness-project.com/
Pursuit of Happiness: http://www.pursuit-of-happiness.org/
Nel Noddings and Happiness: http://www.infed.org/biblio/happiness_and_education.htm
Education and Happiness -- Economics: http://economix.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/02/18/does-education-make-you-happy/
Revision Definition (posted RHS February 10 -- 171 February 12 )
Final Definition (posted RHS February 17 -- 171 February 19 )
Reflection #1 (posted RHS February 20 -- 171 February 22)
Rough Draft Comparison (posted RHS February 24 -- 171 February 26 )
Revision Comparison (posted RHS March 2 -- 171 March 4)
Final Comparison (posted RHS March 9 -- 171 March 11)
Reflection #2 (RHS March 16 -- 171 March 25)
Rough Draft Argument (posted RHS April 6 -- 171 April 8)
Revision Argument (posted RHS April 13 -- 171 April 15)
Final Argument (posted RHS April 20 -- 171 April 23)
Reflection #3 (posted RHS April 23)